Looking But Not Seeing
by flutterbymountain
Summary: Sam and Dean are on the hunt for a demon again; this time however it all ends in tragedy and they have to come to terms with the consequences of their jobs.


Set between Nightmares and The Benders (ish)

Looking, But Not Seeing

Part 1

Tradition. Traditions like cleaning the guns every night, or only going to hotels that had Pay-per-View were now an integral part of Sams survival. All his old little traditions – Like getting take out when both him and Jess were late at college or laying in late on a Monday in form of protest against the coming week – Were gone, never to return. And would he swap back? Yes, most likely. But then you'd have to mix and match the two lives, adding a little bit of what he had and what he has now. But nothing could ever go back to the way it was, the care free college days or peaceful mornings spent with his girlfriend.

All changed in an instant.

All gone, all taken away by some malevolent evil that had also taken his mother and sent his father on a lifelong quest, leaving his big brother to follow in those cold footsteps.

Sam was woken from his light sleep by the Impala jerking to a stop. Deans driving was getting much worse these days, probably from lack of sleep. Pink Floyd blared from the cassette player, proclaiming that they'd missed the starting gun.

"Are we nearly there yet?" Wiping his eyes, Sam hauled himself into a more upright sitting position. Glancing around him, the stationary landscape was a barren and plain typical dustbowl environment. Not really inspiring him to get up and fight some demon butt. In fact, it was doing the pretty much opposite… Yawning loudly he turned to his older brother. "Hmm?"

"We're out of gas." Dean didn't look impressed. "You just rest your little head Sammy whilst I figure out how to find some more."

"Well, you could always bore a massive hole and hope to hit a reserve. And don't call me Sammy. It's Sam."

"Sure." He stepped out of the car to try and flag down a passing motorist, which was going to be a hard task on these highways. Sam absentmindedly picked up the deck of cards Dean had chucked into the trunk from their last stop. Shuffling them, he sighed. It was going to be another long day.

"Well thank you sir! Will a twenty cover it? Once again, many thanks!" Dean's perky voice carried through the windows, giving the exterior of a man just happy to be able to get on his way. But Sam knew different, and could hear the edge of paranoia in his voice. He'd been edgy all the way from Max's house, even though he wouldn't admit it and he certainly wouldn't tell him why. Instead of being sensible and opening up he'd locked it all away again and was ready to throw himself into another job; thankfully they'd found one quick. A suspicious death had turned up in a California paper, and Dean – Even though he didn't know anything about it yet – had taken the task to heart.

The clouds were starting to obscure the dry sun, and threatened rain. The engine rasped into action when Dean turned the key, and then they were off again. The dusty track stretched out in front of them as the heavens opened. Dean flipped a cassette with his free hand and pressed play, turning up the volume on the opening chords of some other 80's rock hit.

It was going to be a very long day.

Eventually, day turned to night and Dean was ready to find a motel. Sliding off the freeway, they turned into the car park under 'Sleepin' Easy' sign that flashed in neon. Having parked up, Dean got out and slammed the door shut, startling Sam from his dreamless sleep.

"Jerk." Sam muttered as he joined Dean striding towards the reception, ready to book in and sleep in a proper bed for once after having had to kip in the back of the car for the last three nights. Dean, being the stubborn one, had refused to pull over and find a place to stop. Heck, he should be the angry one, Sam thought, he was the one whose visions hadn't stopped people dying. Not Dean, he had wanted to just sit back and see if anything happened, rather than try and prevent it. And three people had died. _Dean himself had stared down the business end of a pistol and prayed for the trigger to stick!_ But he just shook it all off, giving some non-committal answer, reluctant to let his true feelings come out into the open, protecting himself. Protecting himself from his own brother.

"And what name is the room in?" the blonde receptionist asked.

"Jack Hunter. And put it on my card." Dean, as always, was playing it cool and smiling. Pretty women seemed to have that effect on him.

"Room 43, fourth floor, second on the left. Have a good night!" Sam decided she was way too perky for 4 o' clock in the morning, and someone who'd already been up for at least 7 hours. Must be some pretty strong coffee round here.

"Thanks, doll." Flashing his trademark cutesy smile, and letting just a little bit of emotion though his eyes, Dean left the girl simpering at her desk. He seemed to have that effect on pretty women.

Marching away from the desk with authority, Dean turned to his brother. "We'll be in Cali by Tuesday. No need to fret, I'll get us there soon."

"I didn't ask when we'd get the-"

"No, but you have that look on your face like your puppy just got run over. Care to share?"

"No."

The lift seemed to take ages, but that could be because it was from around the early fifties, judging by its fascia and worn out buttons. Eventually it crawled to the fourth floor, and the doors slide open again. Locating room 43, Dean unlocked the door and threw his jacket onto the sofa. Kicking off his shoes, he fell onto the bed and into a slumber, snoring loudly.

Sam stood in the doorway, looking up the corridor that snaked around to the right with more rooms in a horseshoe. Despite the nagging tiredness at the back of his eyes, he flopped onto the sofa and turned the TV onto MTV, boosting the volume just enough to annoy Dean. However, instead of waking and shouting at Sam, showing some emotion, he just grabbed the pillow and buried his face in it, to block out the sound. Sighing, Sam turned it off and settled onto the sofa, hoping that tonight the nightmares wouldn't be too bad.


End file.
